


I'd rather screw you

by dancey94



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: M/M, Post-Coital, Post-Episode: s03e13 The Wrath of the Lamb
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-10
Updated: 2015-11-10
Packaged: 2018-05-01 00:10:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 960
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5184872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dancey94/pseuds/dancey94
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>"That’d be a great moment for a cigarette but I don’t smoke"</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'd rather screw you

Will’s body squirms on the bed in the darkness of the room. He’s panting, he’s trying to catch his breath. It’s hot in the room and his body is warm, like in a fever. His voice turns into whimpers and groans. Graham arches his back and breathes out.

It’s after midnight, the clock on the bedside table tells. Will has his eyes closed and open mouth which release another moan. His head hits the headboard which makes him open his eyes and curse loudly. Hannibal places a palm on his mouth to keep him quiet and muffle any more bad language. The action causes Will to laugh and he almost chokes, deprived of the opportunity to breathe through his mouth.

Another loud moan and then Will’s body goes utterly still. He lies on the bed, completely weightless, having lost all control.

Hannibal strokes his cheek and collapses on top of him in a moment. He can hear Will’s loud heartbeat and an attempt at stabilizing his breathing. Lecter stretches his hand and reaches for the bedside table. A quick flick and the room is lit with a small lamp.

Hannibal moves to lie beside Will and looks at the man. Graham seems utterly exploited and exhausted. Entering the minds of the killers were never so tiring. But this… this is so good and Will often laughs at how pleasant it feels when he always considered anal sex only painful and not at all entertaining. But during the few weeks they engaged in nightly activities of a sexual nature, Hannibal managed to show Will all the pleasant aspects of almost every possible act.

There was a day when Lecter was too overwhelmed to enjoy sex with Will and there was a day when he simply tied Will down to the bed and offered him all kinds of touches – soft, sweet and reaching almost the man’s bones.

The nights are warm, sometimes rainy and Will likes to focus on the sound of the raindrops hitting the windowsills. Lecter has already noticed that and smiles everytime it rains. It was his choice – to go to Argentina. He had fake papers and he arranged their accommodation.

Hannibal kisses Will’s cheek and palm, as the perfect gentleman he is, and then he puts his head on Will’s chest.

They are too exhausted to care about the dirty sheets or to care about anything at all. Hannibal just wants to cuddle, feel Graham’s ribs under his fingertips and hear the lively heartbeat. He needs grounding as much as Will used to once. Being aware of someone else’s presence in the room, in the bed, is reassuring and for Hannibal there could be no better option than spending this evening, correction – this night, with Will Graham.

Will moves his head back, stretches his neck, reveals every muscle and vein. Then he looks at Hannibal.

“That’d be a great moment for a cigarette but I don’t smoke.”

“If only for the sake of painting a cliché picture, I have a cigar in a closet.”

Graham looks down at the older man and shakes his head indicating he’s not interested.

“That couple we saw today in the gallery…” Will begins and then starts wondering if maybe Hannibal is already asleep. He looks down, Lecter has indeed his eyes closed.

“What about them?” the doctor asks, after a second, he is sleepy but still conscious.

“Is there a possibility for us to end up like this? Old, with grey hair and wrinkled skin.”

“I already have wrinkles around my eyes. You do, too, especially when you smile.” Hannibal comments, still with his eyes closed and head on Will’s sweaty chest.

“But-”

“I don’t know, Will. There was a time I wouldn’t have thought I’d ever meet someone who’d offer me a total recognition. Then you appeared. I never _planned_ to incarcerate you. It just had to happen. I don’t _plan_ to kiss you, I only want to do this and then I do.”

“I did sort of plan to kill us. And even the seconds before the fall I did plan to kiss you.” Will confesses. They already have this conversation behind them but Will tends to say he wanted to kiss Hannibal on the cliff. Is it a proof of regret?

“Our plans often have to be changed and adjusted to what actually happens around us.”

“For the last few years you have been the only thing that has been happening around me. You were the reason why I was in the mental hospital, why I crossed the Atlantic, why I almost got killed, several times, actually. You are the reason I left my wife and her kid, why I abandoned my dogs. You are the sole reason why my life looks like… this.” Graham shifts his head and takes a thorough look around the room. The small lamp sheds some light and Will sees the wardrobe, a few bags, a newspaper and the two mugs they use. This is not a life full of attachment, not to one place, that is. Otherwise, Graham is aware how attached to Hannibal he is and vice versa. They are conjoined. They are one.

Lecter lifts his head from Will’s chest and smiles.

“I love you, too, Will.”

Hannibal kisses the man on the lips and when he pulls back, he narrows his eyes in a baffling thought.

“Should I grow my beard?”

“You definitely shouldn’t.” Will voices and kisses Hannibal’s forehead.

They lie down, heads on the pillow, so close to each other they know they will be too warm soon and sweating against each other. It’s enough the weather is warm.

“The sheets.” Hannibal remarks after a moment.

“Screw the sheets.” Will whispers and Hannibal chuckles. He’d rather screw Will.


End file.
